


Masked

by smarshtastic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jesse McCree, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mission Fic, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27310024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: “Jesse, you’re Robin Hood!” Shiga says. Reyes nods. He takes Jesse by the wrist and wraps one of the cuffs around his wrist. Jesse tries not to get distracted by Reyes’s touch. He peeks at Reyes’s face as Reyes tightens the stays on the cuff, but his eyes are focused on the task at hand. His hands are steady and warm. Jesse swallows around the lump in his throat.---A masquerade mission goes sideways and Reyes patches Jesse up.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Comments: 13
Kudos: 59





	Masked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mechformers (maderi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maderi/gifts).



> This was written for Twitter user @[mechformers](https://www.twitter.com/mechformers) as part of the Halloween McReyes Exchange! I hope you like it ♥ 
> 
> Shout out to [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/pseuds/fabrega/works) for her incredible beta skills, as usual. 
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/smarshtastic), [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/mcreyes), and [tumblr](https://wictorwictor.tumblr.com/) ♥

In the weeks leading up to the masquerade mission, Commander Reyes is more elusive than usual. The entire strike team is working long hours preparing for the mission, but usually the commander would join them, working alongside them as they narrow down the intel and refine their approach. He checks in occasionally, but otherwise, Jesse doesn’t see him hardly at all.

Which is very much fine and not at all a disappointment.

The night before they ship out to the English countryside, Reyes calls a late meeting with the strike team. Everyone is already buzzing with pre-mission energy in spite of the lateness of the hour. In the conference room, there are bundles of… something sitting on the table in front of each chair. Jesse moves down the table to his usual seat and notices his name on the tag attached to the bundle. He looks around to see his fellow squadmates curiously inspecting their own bundles. Reyes walks in a moment later, nose buried in his tablet. He looks tired, which is to say: he looks more tired than usual. The circles under his eyes are darker than the last time Jesse saw him, and he notices a few of the commander’s fingers are wrapped in band-aids. Reyes takes his spot at the head of the table and puts his tablet down.

“The mission plan for the masquerade operation looks good,” Reyes says. “But it was missing one thing.”

Jesse glances across the table at Stef, who meets his eye with an arched eyebrow. He racks his brain, trying to think of what they could have forgotten. They aren’t amateurs - they planned this mission down to the last detail.

“I’ve provided costumes for each one of you,” Reyes goes on, his expression unreadable. “We’ll be able to blend in much better, and the costumes should help the execution of the operation go smoothly.”

“Commander,” Stef says carefully. Reyes nods for her to continue. “Won’t the costumes… get in the way?”

“I’ve designed them specifically to ensure that that doesn’t happen,” Reyes says. Prithi sits up a little straighter.

“You designed them?” she asks. Reyes blinks impassively.

“Yes,” he says.

“Wait, so,” Wake says. “To be clear. You made them?”

Reyes heaves a sigh. “Yes.”

Jesse can’t keep the surprise out of his face. He’s seen Reyes’s handiwork at Halloween - his costumes are always over the top and impeccably made. It makes sense, suddenly, that Reyes has been scarce over the last few weeks if he’s been making costumes for the _entire_ strike team.

“I need you all to try them on,” Reyes says. “So I can make adjustments and make sure you can still carry your equipment.”

Jesse looks down at the bundle of costume in front of him. He can’t quite make out what the costume is meant to be, but there’s a lot of green.

“We don’t have a lot of time, so now would be preferable,” Reyes says. Everyone gets up at once, taking their bundles with them to get changed. Shiga falls into step next to Jesse as they leave the conference room and head towards the bathroom.

“Mine has a wig,” Shiga says, peering at Jesse’s bundle. “What do you think it is?”

“No clue,” Jesse says.

“Do you really think that Reyes made _everyone_ a costume? Like, he didn’t have that much time,” Shiga says. “Maybe he bought some?”

“I don’t think Reyes would take any shortcuts,” Jesse says. He pushes open the bathroom door and lets Shiga step in ahead of him.

“No, you’re right,” Shiga says. He steps into one of the stalls, the door slamming behind him. “I just can’t believe that Reyes would’ve spent that much time.”

Jesse lets himself into another stall and unfolds the bundle. There’s a pair of black pants that look too small, a green long-sleeved shirt edged in brown that looks too big, and a brown cowl that feels like some sort of suede. There’s also a few extra leather-like pieces that Jesse can’t make heads or tails of. Jesse pulls on the shirt, which actually fits well, even if it is surprisingly long and the sleeves are billowy. The pants are _tight_ , but stretchy, almost like those leggings he’s seen Prithi or Wake wear around the base during their off time. Jesse adjusts himself self-consciously, but the hem of the shirt seems to cover all his important bits. There’s a belt among the leather pieces, but he doesn’t appear to have belt loops so he leaves it off. He pulls the cowl on as well and finds that it drapes down his back almost like a cape, with a hood that comes up over the back of his head.

After adjusting himself one more time, Jesse steps out of the stall with the strange leather pieces still in his arms. Shiga emerges from the stall next to him after a few moments. Jesse nearly drops the leather pieces as he gets a proper look at Shiga.

“Oh my god,” Shiga says, catching sight of himself in the mirror above the sinks. “I’m beautiful!”

Jesse is doubled over in laughter, almost wheezing at the sight of Shiga in a long, straight blond wig. He’s in green from head to toe, with a long coat over tight pants. He, too, has a cape, which is fastened by a leaf-shaped brooch at his throat.

“What the hell are you supposed to be?” Jesse asks between breaths.

“No idea,” Shiga says cheerfully. “Are you wearing tights?”

“They are really tight,” Jesse says, looking down at himself.

“Shows off your muscles,” Shiga says, nodding appreciatively. “Maybe Reyes can make my pants tighter too.”

“I wonder what everyone else’s costumes are?” Jesse asks.

A few minutes later the two of them are back in the conference room with the rest of their squadmates. Jesse looks around, trying to guess at what each of them are supposed to be. Some of them are easy - Wake’s peacock costume involves a short, gauzy dress with a fan of peacock feathers peeking over her shoulders - while others, like Stef’s seemingly plain black jumpsuit, are more elusive. Edwards looks like he stepped out of an old Disney movie with his Prince Charming outfit, while Tack looks slightly uncomfortable in his gladiator get-up. Prithi is clearly delighted by her pirate outfit. Jesse is more than a little disappointed that Reyes hasn’t put on his own costume. The commander is still standing at the head of the table, looking over each of his strike team member’s outfits impassively, arms folded over his chest.

“How do they fit?” Reyes asks.

“Can you make my pants tight like Jesse’s?” Shiga asks immediately.

“They are pretty tight,” Jesse says.

Reyes comes over to Shiga to take a closer look. “No,” he says. “I think these are fine.”

“I don’t have a place for a holster,” Stef says, gesturing at her jumpsuit. When she turns towards Reyes, Jesse sees the silky black feathers trailing down the back of her jumpsuit like wings.

“I have ankle holsters for you,” Gabe says. “Also, there’s pockets.”

Stef blinks and then finds the hidden fold of the side pockets with both hands. She looks almost begrudgingly pleased. Prithi immediately checks her own outfit for pockets and is delighted to find pockets in both her pants and also her coat.

“These are really cool, Commander,” Edwards says. “We’ll blend in perfectly.”

“That’s the idea,” Reyes says. Even though his expression is still mostly unreadable, he looks fairly pleased with himself. As he should, Jesse thinks privately. His work is impeccable.

“What are these for?” Jesse asks, holding up leather pieces. Reyes comes over to him and takes the pieces out of his hands.

“These are cuffs, this will go over your boots - Shiga has something similar, but I’ll finish that tonight,” Reyes says. He holds up the belt. “This goes around your waist, and over your shoulder. I have a quiver for you for the shoulder strap, and a hat.”

“Jesse, you’re Robin Hood!” Shiga says. Reyes nods. He takes Jesse by the wrist and wraps one of the cuffs around his wrist. Jesse tries not to get distracted by Reyes’s touch. He peeks at Reyes’s face as Reyes tightens the stays on the cuff, but his eyes are focused on the task at hand. His hands are steady and warm. Jesse swallows around the lump in his throat.

“This mission is gonna be _great_ ,” Wake says, beaming.

♦ ♦ ♦

As expected, the masquerade is beyond extravagant. The tech magnate spared no expense - he probably just has no idea what to do with his billions and so spends his fortune on lavish - and pointless - parties. This particular party is problematic for a multitude of reasons, not least because several of the people who have been invited are mortal enemies, mostly politically, or are friendly with someone who is the enemy of someone else who has been invited, and it’s likely to get messy. Threats have already been made and, because of the high profiles of many of these guests, Blackwatch was called in to quell any violence before it happens.

Plus, Blackwatch’s presence at this event will, ultimately, help them acquire more funding from some happy politicians. They could always use more funding.

Another fantastic use of Blackwatch’s time and skills, Jesse thinks to himself. He’s standing off to the side of the enormous ballroom in the English manor house, a glass of champagne in hand that he hasn’t touched. While he hasn’t quite gotten used to the tights, the rest of his costume is surprisingly comfortable and has done an excellent job of concealing Jesse’s various weapons. He’s pleased by the hat, even though he wishes it had a wider brim that he could pull down to better conceal his face, but the mask should make him mostly unrecognizable.

The rest of the squad is spread out, each tailing their own marks. Jesse can see Shiga and Prithi in the ballroom, and Edwards last checked in somewhere around the dining room. Tack is in the library while Wake and Stef are in the chapel. Jesse’s lost track of Commander Reyes, which is a shame, as his costume, with its faux ermine edged cape, is a work of art in and of itself.

Plus, Reyes always cleans up well.

Jesse glances over at his mark again. The man is huge, his neck as thick as his skull, and Jesse is pretty sure that this man would have no trouble dealing with his attacker should it get that far. He’s a professional rugby player with an impeccable record and only a few head injuries to his name. But, still, it’s Jesse’s job to make sure the man makes it through the evening unscathed no matter what happens.

The rugby player is currently talking to a lithe young woman with dark hair and a very low-cut dress. Jesse isn’t entirely sure if “sexy” counts as a costume, but she’s masked, which seems to be the lowest bar for entry. He watches the pair for a few moments to ensure that they’re just flirting before he allows himself to look around for suspicious people once again. Jesse has tagged a couple potentials already; a man in a bishop get-up with shifty eyes, another in an elaborate Dracula costume, and a woman in what appears to be an assassin’s costume, with knives glittering on her belt. He’s less convinced of the last one, but he knows all too well that hiding in plain sight can be very effective.

When Jesse’s gaze swings back around to his mark, he manages to catch sight of him stepping out onto the patio with the woman. Jesse moves quickly but casually to follow, meandering around a few groups of people before he sets his glass of champagne down and slips out onto the patio through a different set of doors a few yards away from his mark.

The vast garden stretches out away from the manor house, only the closest manicured shrubs and hedges catching the light that pours out of the ballroom. Beyond that, it’s nearly pitch black. Jesse takes a deep breath of the crisp English air, wishing he had a cigarette instead. He glances sideways. The man and the woman are standing close, apparently talking. Their voices are low enough not to carry, or are otherwise drowned out by the noise from the ballroom. Jesse isn’t entirely sure he wants to witness any sort of make out session, but he also can’t abandon his mark. He takes another deep breath and lets it out slowly, half-wishing for a more interesting assignment - or at least one that makes actual use of Blackwatch’s skillset.

There’s a strangled cry to Jesse’s left. He turns towards the sound quickly to find the rugby player clutching his neck and the woman nowhere in sight. Jesse strides over to the man to see blood seeping between the man’s fingers.

“That bitch stuck me!” the rugby player bellowed. Jesse pries the man’s hand away from his neck with some difficulty, but the wound looks shallow. The man’s thick neck probably saved his life.

“Where did she go?” Jesse asks. The man gestures vaguely at the darkened garden. Jesse takes off before he says anything. Into his comm, he says, “My mark needs medical. He’s on the patio outside of the ballroom, facing the garden. Non-life threatening. I’m in pursuit of his attacker.”

A bush looms up out of the dark, tripping Jesse and sending him sprawling. He picks himself up quickly and keeps going, squinting through the darkness. It’s nearly impossible to see anything. Jesse slows to a stop. He strains to listen for any sounds over the sound of music filtering out from the ballroom. He thinks he hears a rustle in the bushes and moves towards the noise.

Suddenly, a sharp pain pierces Jesse’s shoulder. He stumbles and looks down at his shoulder, surprised to see a small throwing knife lodged there. He yanks it out immediately and throws it to the side, newly determined and more than a little pissed off.

He sees the flash of the woman’s red, silky dress in the weak moonlight as she flees around another grouping of shrubbery. Jesse follows as quickly as he can, the adrenaline dulling the pain in his shoulder. Another knife whizzes past his ear.

“Would you cut that out?” Jesse shouts. He pushes forward, feeling his costume catch on some of the branches as he passes. Yet another knife whizzes by, this one nicking his side. “Your aim’s bad!”

Jesse catches another glimpse of the dress as he rounds a corner. With a grunt, he launches himself forward and manages to grab the hem before she gets too far away. She trips and falls and they go rolling on the gravel path. He hears more fabric tearing, and can feel the gravel of the garden path digging into his skin. Jesse scrambles to keep his grip on her dress, his other hand coming up to grab her ankle. She slashes at him with another knife but Jesse dodges, scrambling to pin her arms. She manages to get a cut or two in before Jesse pins her down, breathing hard. He can’t see much of her face, but he’s pretty sure she’s scowling.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know?” Jesse says. The woman struggles, but Jesse has at least twice as much weight on her, and much, _much_ more muscle. She says something in French that is clearly an insult or a swear or some combination of the two. “Mind your manners, now, huh?”

Jesse hears the crunch of boots on gravel and turns his head to peer into the dark. His eyes have adjusted somewhat, so he can make out the outline of Commander Reyes’s bulk, the cape trailing behind him.

“McCree?” Reyes asks, cautiously.

“Threat neutralized,” Jesse says, still breathing hard. “Do you got some cuffs on you?”

Reyes kneels down close to Jesse. He can practically feel the heat coming off the commander’s body. With some difficulty, they manage to get the woman in cuffs. She’s a tiny thing, but she fights like she’s possessed. At least, the specialized cuffs will keep her hands useless. Together, Jesse and Reyes haul her to her feet. Jesse hisses through his teeth as he straightens.

“You alright?” Reyes asks. Jesse can’t see his expression in the dark, but he swears he can hear a note of concern in his voice.

“Just some scratches,” Jesse says, pressing his hand to the cut in his side. He can feel warm blood seeping through his shirt. “What’re we doing with this one?”

“We’ll transport her,” Reyes says. “Come on.”

Jesse follows Reyes back towards the manor. In the light spilling out of the ballroom, Jesse sees the tears in his pants, and his own blood staining his shirt. He pulls his own cape close, hoping that Reyes doesn’t see it. He knows he’ll get chewed out for being reckless. The woman has gone quiet and sullen, dragging her feet as Jesse and Reyes march her around the side of the manor to the front drive. There’s an unmarked van already waiting for them, with Tack in the front seat. Reyes slides open the door and Jesse helps the woman up into the van, where Reyes cuffs her, wrists and ankles, to the bench in the back. He hops down and slides the door shut, giving it a firm knock. Tack revs the engine and pulls away. Reyes turns back to Jesse, mouth open as if he’s about to say something, but his expression drops into something that Jesse can’t identify.

“You’re bleeding,” Reyes says. Jesse looks down at himself again and, yeah, in the flood lights illuminating the driveway, it’s pretty obvious. Plus, as the adrenaline fades, the actual pain is starting to make itself known too.

“Oh, yeah. She had knives,” Jesse says. Reyes sweeps off his enormous, faux fur lined cloak and wraps it around Jesse’s shoulders.

“Come on,” he says, taking Jesse firmly by the elbow.

Jesse allows himself to be steered back into the manor, up a flight of stairs and into a small, elaborately decorated bathroom. Reyes shuts the door behind him.

“Sit,” he says. Jesse sits on the closed toilet and lets Reyes’s cloak fall away. Aside from the wound in his shoulder - which is still bleeding - and the nick in his side, Jesse has a few defensive wounds on his arms from trying to get the woman pinned down. His pants are ripped, showing skin, and there’s now blood seeping into his cape as well.

“Well that looks a whole lot worse than I thought,” Jesse says.

“Just once I’d like to have a mission where you don’t get grievously injured,” Reyes says. He gathers up some of the luxuriously thick paper towels that are stacked in a basket by the sink.

“I wouldn’t call this _grievously_ injured,” Jesse says, though he winces as Reyes presses one of the paper towels to his shoulder.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Reyes says, without much venom. Jesse smiles crookedly.

“I thought you liked me that way,” Jesse says. Reyes glances up briefly but his expression doesn’t change.

“I believe I said, ‘I appreciate your tactical improvisation,’” Reyes says. Jesse waves his non-injured arm.

“Same difference,” Jesse says.

“You’re an idiot,” Reyes says. It comes out almost fond. Jesse’s smile stretches wider.

“What are you going to do, send me off to Morrison’s team?”

“You’re _my_ idiot,” Reyes says. Jesse feels something in his chest flutter. He leans forward a little. Reyes doesn’t lean back.

“Aw, boss, you’re gonna make me blush,” Jesse says.

“You’re still an idiot, though,” Reyes says.

“I can live with that,” Jesse says. Reyes shakes his head again, turning his attention back to Jesse’s wounds. Jesse studies his face - it’s not often he gets to be so close to Reyes. His brow is furrowed in concentration, the scar over his eyebrow puckering too. Jesse finds himself thinking that Reyes really has the prettiest eyes.

“We should probably get you out of here,” Reyes says. Jesse comes back to the present.

“I’m alright,” Jesse protests.

“You’re covered in blood, and your mark is out of the picture,” Reyes says. “You can stand down.”

Jesse sighs in defeat. Reyes moves back so he can stand. The world only wobbles a little bit under Jesse’s feet. Reyes steadies him with a hand under the elbow.

“You know, you should’ve gotten the Prince Charming costume,” Jesse says. “With all your manners. Giving me your cloak.”

“I’m a prince,” Gabe says. “Just not a charming one.”

“You’re plenty charming!” Jesse says.

“Are you sure you don’t also have a concussion?”

“And funny, too,” Jesse says. Reyes sighs and reaches around Jesse to pick up his cloak again. He wraps it around Jesse’s shoulders. Jesse holds it closed with his good hand.

“Let’s move,” Reyes says. Jesse lets Reyes shuffle him out of the bathroom and towards the stairs.

“I probably don’t need real medical attention,” Jesse says in a low voice as he goes. “Angie would be mad we woke her up.”

“We don’t have to go all the way back to Switzerland. There’s doctors here.”

“Yeah, but none of them have your gentle touch.”

“I can’t kiss it and make it better,” Reyes says, some of that gruffness coming back into his voice.

“I mean, you haven’t _tried_. It might work,” Jesse says, not joking at all but keeping his tone light.

To his surprise, Reyes stops, turns, and then his mouth is on Jesse’s, surprisingly soft lips - and his beard too. Jesse doesn’t manage to pool enough of his brain cells together to figure out what’s happening before it’s over. Reyes lifts the corner of the cape covering Jesse’s injured shoulder.

“Nope, still bleeding,” Reyes says. He starts walking again like nothing ever happened. Reyes comms the team to update them as they walk. Jesse follows, a dazed half step behind him.

This has happened before. Not _exactly_ this, but Reyes has kissed Jesse. Or Jesse has kissed Reyes. It catches him by surprise every time Reyes initiates, and it’s happened at least three times before. Not that Jesse’s counting. However it’s happened often enough that it’s starting to feel like this weird game of chicken where they’re daring each other to say something, but neither of them does. Jesse is half convinced Reyes knows about his crush, that he’s just trying to torture him, but, knowing Reyes, that seems unlikely. But the other option seems impossible.

They walk back out to the front drive, where a car is already waiting for them. The valet hops out and opens the door for Reyes and Jesse. Reyes slides into the driver’s seat while Jesse eases himself delicately into the passenger’s seat. The slice in his side pulls a little when he shifts down into the seat.

“Buckle up, McCree,” Reyes says. He tugs his mask off and tosses it into the backseat. Jesse does the same. “I don’t need you getting more hurt than you already are.”

Jesse clicks the seatbelt into place. “Are you gonna drive crazy?”

“I’m an excellent driver,” Reyes says. He pulls away from the manor, making a neat turn onto the country road without any sudden moves. Jesse settles into his seat and lets his head fall back against the headrest, trying to ignore the throbbing pain all over. After a few minutes, Reyes asks, “You still with me?”

“I haven’t passed out, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jesse says.

“Just making sure,” Reyes says.

“I’ll let you know if I feel like it,” Jesse says. He turns his head to look at him. He can’t see much of Reyes’s face as they drive down the dark country roads, but he can see the outline of his profile. He can imagine the disapproving expression on his face. Reyes makes a small noise, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

The rest of the drive to the closest Overwatch station passes uneventfully. It’s getting harder to ignore the pain. Jesse shifts uncomfortably in his seat, that wound in his shoulder pulling. Fortunately, Reyes pulls into the underground garage just a few minutes later. He gets out and comes around to the side, but Jesse is already pushing the door open with his good arm. He squints up at Reyes in the harsh light of the garage.

“I can manage the door, Prince Charming,” Jesse says. Reyes rolls his eyes.

“Let's get you patched up,” Reyes says.

Jesse follows Reyes into the elevator, still clutching the faux fur cape around his shoulders. In the light, he can see the blood on his costume and on the skin that’s peeking through the holes in his pants. He glances sideways at Reyes.

“What is your costume supposed to be?” Jesse says. “If you ain’t actually Prince Charming?”

“Prince John,” Reyes says.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“You should - you’re Robin Hood,” Reyes says. Jesse shakes his head. “We need to get you a copy of a book. Prince John is Robin Hood’s enemy.”

“Huh,” Jesse says. “I don’t think we’re enemies, boss.”

Reyes snorts. “Depends on the day.”

The elevator doors ping open and Reyes lets Jesse step out ahead of him before he falls into step next to Jesse. It’s late and the station is quiet - nobody is walking around at this hour. They walk side by side all the way into the infirmary, but Reyes is careful not to nudge Jesse. Jesse lets himself bump into Reyes’s shoulder, even though it doesn’t feel totally great. He just likes the closeness - craves it, really

Even though the rest of the station is quiet, the infirmary is surprisingly busy - the doctors are moving back and forth with the nurses, attending to three or four Overwatch agents who look like they’re in bad shape. Reyes frowns as he looks around for an empty bed, but, as an auxiliary station, space is tight. The doctors barely spare them a look and one of the nurses looks downright annoyed that they’ve walked in. Jesse knows that Blackwatch agents are practically second class citizens in Overwatch’s eyes, but it still doesn’t feel good when he could _actually_ use some medical attention.

“I can probably just put some bandaids on,” Jesse offers. Reyes looks back at Jesse.

“You were stabbed,” Reyes says flatly. Jesse knows that Blackwatch’s status in the broader organization is a sore spot for Reyes. He wishes there was something that could be done about it, but Jesse isn’t exactly in a position to do so, even if he’s the de facto second in command.

“Well, yeah. But it’s mostly stopped bleeding I think,” Jesse says, lifting up the edge of the cape to peer at his shoulder. It has not, in fact, stopped bleeding. Reyes heaves a sigh.

“Come here,” Reyes says, moving towards an empty chair off to the side and out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the infirmary. “Sit.”

Jesse sits, letting the cape fall from his shoulders as Reyes moves away to look for some supplies. Jesse looks down at his shoulder again. It definitely has not stopped bleeding, though the bleeding in his side has slowed. All of the wounds definitely need a good cleaning, and a few might need a stitch or two, but Jesse’s definitely had worse. He didn’t even pass out this time. Reyes comes back over to Jesse with a med kit in hand. Jesse raises an eyebrow.

“You playing doctor now? I think you need one of those white coats,” Jesse says, nodding towards the doctors who are still pretending to ignore them.

“Field medic, more like,” Reyes says. “All of our doctors are busy, you might have noticed.”

“I did notice,” Jesse says, eyeing Reyes as he opens up the kit.

“Don’t worry, you’re in good hands,” Reyes says.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t.”

“You have a look.”

“I’m just thinking about Angie’s nice, small, gentle hands,” Jesse says. He’s joking, mostly.

“I can be very gentle,” Reyes protests. Jesse tries not to let his mind wander.

“A man of many talents,” Jesse says. Reyes makes a face and goes back to digging through the med kit.

“I’ve had a long time to pick up a few things,” Reyes says. “You’re going to need to take off your shirt.”

“Usually I like a little more foreplay,” Jesse says. He tries to pull his shirt up over his head but his right shoulder protests with a sharp jab of pain. He grimaces. “You might have to cut me out of this.”

“You know, I spent a long time on your costume,” Reyes says, already taking a pair of bandage scissors out of the kit.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Jesse says, and he means it. The costume really was a work of art and Jesse is sorry to see it ruined. Reyes glances up, a strange expression coming over his face just for a brief moment before it settles back on his usual neutral-yet-intimidating look.

“It’s fine,” Reyes says gruffly. He reaches up and starts cutting away Jesse’s shirt.

“Everyone looked real good,” Jesse says. “It was impressive.”

Reyes makes a small noise but doesn’t say anything. He gets Jesse’s shirt off and lets it fall to the floor. He leans forward to peer at Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse crosses his other arm over his chest a bit self consciously, which is, frankly, ridiculous - Reyes has seen him naked plenty of times, and in worse shape.

“This isn’t too deep,” Reyes says.

“She threw a knife pretty clean, but the distance helped, I think,” Jesse says. Reyes nods. He takes some antiseptic wipes and starts cleaning off Jesse’s shoulder. His touch _is_ gentle, surprisingly so, but the antiseptic still stings and Jesse hisses through his teeth. Reyes steadies him with his other hand on Jesse’s left shoulder, peering up at him.

“Alright?”

“Uh huh,” Jesse says. He meets Reyes’s eyes. He wants to kiss him again. Reyes is so close - and Jesse rarely gets his undivided attention like this. But Jesse is keenly aware of the doctors, nurses, and Overwatch agents just a few feet away.

“I’ll try to be more gentle,” Reyes says.

“It’s not that bad.”

Reyes goes back to cleaning off Jesse’s shoulder, his touch even lighter than before. “You might need a stitch or two.”

“Are we gonna have to bother one of the docs?” Jesse asks. Reyes glances over his shoulder. The doctors aren’t paying any attention to them.

“Maybe,” Reyes says, frowning.

“I thought your sewing skills would be up to the task,” Jesse says.

“I usually leave this sort of thing up to the experts,” Reyes says. “I can do it, but…”

“But I’d rather get out of here sooner rather than later.”

Reyes hesitates. “It won’t scar as nicely as Angela’s stitches,” he warns. Jesse shrugs with his good shoulder.

“Dunno if you noticed, but I have a fair few scars already, one more ain’t gonna make a difference,” he says. He might be imagining it, but Reyes’s gaze seems to linger on his chest. Jesse mentally dismisses it as wishful thinking. Reyes does bend his head to look at the cut in his side, lightly pressing around the edges.

“This needs stitches too,” Reyes says.

“Are you going to keep talking about it, or are you gonna actually do it?”

“Alright, if only because you asked for it,” Reyes says. Jesse laughs.

“If only that worked with literally anything else I ask for,” Jesse says. Reyes gives him a long, measured look before he straightens up again.

“I’ll be right back.”

Jesse exhales as Reyes moves away again. He figures he might be able to sneak another kiss after they leave the infirmary, but that might be pushing it. He can get away with a lot, somehow, but _that_ might push Reyes over the edge.

They’ve never talked about it, whatever _it_ is. Reyes seems allergic to talking about most personal subjects, but Jesse expects that this subject in particular would make him totally clam up. Fraternization is generally frowned upon, and the difference in rank adds another element of taboo that Jesse is pretty sure Reyes wouldn’t breach. For all of Reyes’s loose interpretation of Overwatch’s rules, something tells Jesse that kissing his second in command was a line he didn’t intend to cross.

Reyes comes back with a suture kit. He looks down at Jesse, face serious. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“You’re not going to make it worse,” Jesse says, shrugging again. “Plus, I trust you.”

So Reyes stitches him up. It’s only three stitches in his shoulder, with another four in his side, and, as Jesse expected, Reyes’s sutures are neat and not too tight. All that sewing practice makes a world of difference.

Once Jesse’s shoulder and side are stitched up, Reyes turns his attention to the more superficial defensive wounds on Jesse’s hands and arms. Jesse sits patiently as Reyes cleans each little cut. He would endure anything if it meant that Reyes kept touching him.

Fuck, he’s got it bad.

Finally, Reyes throws the last of the bloody gauze into a pile and sweeps it into the now empty med kit.

“Well thanks, doc,” Jesse says. Reyes shakes his head a little.

“Will you actually rest if I tell you to?”

Jesse shrugs, offering Reyes a lopsided smile. “You know me. I live to work.”

Reyes heaves a sigh. “Yeah. I do know you. At least we’ve gotten through the operation.”

“See? No need for me to take any time off. I can sit through a debriefing with a hole in my shoulder,” Jesse says.

“You’ll at least get some rest tonight?”

“I got nothing else to do,” Jesse says. Reyes nods.

“I’ll take it,” Reyes says. Jesse gets to his feet.

“Well - thanks,” Jesse says, a bit awkwardly. He is reluctant to leave Reyes, but he can’t think of an excuse to linger.

“Next time I’ll sew some more body armor into your costume,” Reyes says. “I should’ve known that you’d be the one to need it.”

“I am prone to getting myself hurt,” Jesse nods. An emotion Jesse can’t immediately identify passes over Reyes’s face.

“I wish you’d be just a little more careful,” Reyes says. “Wait - that reminds me. Don’t move.”

Reyes moves away again and Jesse shuffles on the spot. He looks over at the injured Overwatch agents. The flurry of activity seems to have calmed down and only the nurses are left to fuss over the agents. Reyes comes back with a sling. Jesse groans.

“It’s not that bad, you said yourself,” Jesse says. Reyes ignores him, already strapping the sling to Jesse’s shoulder.

“But I know you,” Reyes says. “Unless I immobilize your arm, you’re gonna tear out your stitches.”

“I won’t!”

“You’ve done it before.”

Jesse purses his lips. Reyes is right, but Jesse won’t admit it out loud. He holds still for Reyes as he straps his arm to his chest. Reyes’s fingers brush over the bare skin of Jesse’s chest and he has to try really hard to suppress the shiver that runs down his spine.

“Let’s get you home now,” Reyes says.

“What, back at the Swiss base?” Jesse asks, surprised. “Don’t you want to get back to the op?”

“The strike team has it handled,” Reyes says. “They don’t need to be babysat.”

Jesse narrows his eyes. “Neither do I.”

“I know that,” Reyes says. “But in Switzerland, you have a bigger bed and a change of clothes.”

Jesse makes a face but the thought of crashing in his own bed _does_ sound pretty good right now. Reyes knows when he has him.

Plus, it means a little bit more one on one time with Reyes. Jesse wouldn’t turn that opportunity down.

“Come on. We can grab a shuttle.”

♦ ♦ ♦

The flight back to Switzerland is quick and uneventful. Reyes dials in the autopilot and Jesse sits in the co-pilot’s seat. They don’t speak, but it’s a comfortable silence. Jesse has always felt at ease with Reyes, maybe more than he should, but he knows that Reyes’s notoriously grumpy attitude is mostly a façade. He cares about his people - tonight is a prime example. Reyes is a good man. And Jesse has a _terrible_ crush on him.

At the base, Jesse and Reyes walk side by side to the officers' quarters. This is a more recent development for Jesse - as Reyes’s second in command, Jesse was able to finagle his way into a junior officer’s room. It’s not much more than a closet and he still has to share a bathroom, but it’s all _his_. Unfortunately for Edwards, that means Shiga is his new roommate.

They reach Jesse’s door and Jesse shuffles on the spot, once again reluctant to let Reyes walk away. He can’t think of an excuse, though, so he pulls the cape off of his shoulders and holds it out to Reyes.

“Thanks. Again,” Jesse says. “Dunno what I’d do without you, boss.”

“You’d be fine,” Reyes says, taking the cape and folding it over his arm. Jesse laughs.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Jesse says.

“You did well enough before I got to you,” Reyes points out.

“I guess that’s true.”

There’s a pause. Jesse really doesn’t want to say good night.

“Sorry for ruining your costume,” Jesse says. “I might have to cut myself out of these pants, too.”

“Do you need a hand?” Reyes says. Jesse freezes, daring to meet Reyes’s eye. “Since you’re down one.”

“I - sure,” Jesse says. He turns away quickly to hide the color that he can feel rising in his face. He keys the code into the door, which slides open. Jesse steps to the side to allow Reyes to pass through first. He immediately regrets it - the room is messier than usual, which happens often when Jesse is wrapped up in prep for a new mission. There are clothes on the floor, the bed is unmade, and he’s got a pile of paperbacks next to the bed. “Er - don’t mind the mess.”

“This isn’t regulation,” Reyes says mildly as the door slides shut behind Jesse. The room suddenly feels even smaller than usual with Reyes there. Jesse rubs the back of his head.

“Yeah, I know. Been busy,” Jesse says.

“You’re lucky I’m lenient,” Reyes says, which makes Jesse laugh. Reyes blinks. “What?”

“Boss, I don’t think anyone would describe you as lenient. You used to make me do push ups for insubordination until it felt like my arms were gonna fall off,” Jesse says. Reyes makes a face.

“Well, I had to keep you in line somehow,” Reyes says with a little huff. Jesse grins.

“Did it work?”

“Hardly at all,” Reyes says. Jesse laughs again.

“Sorry, boss. You should’ve known what you were getting yourself into back when you recruited me,” Jesse says. Reyes nods.

“You’re not wrong.”

Still smiling, Jesse shakes his head. All these years and look how far they’ve come. All these years and Jesse _still_ has a totally hopeless crush.

“You still want a hand?” Reyes asks, gesturing vaguely at Jesse.

“Oh - yeah,” Jesse says, trying very hard not to blush. He blinks and then remembers something, and now he definitely can’t stop the color from rising in his cheeks. “Uh, the pants are really tight.”

“They’re technically leggings,” Reyes says. “I figured you might protest about tights.”

“Yeah,” Jesse says. “Uh. Because they’re so tight, though, I. Uh. Didn’t wear underwear.”

Reyes’s expression doesn’t change. “I’ve seen you naked before.”

“Right,” Jesse says, feeling a bit stupid. He rubs the back of his head. “Well.”

“Do you want help or not?”

“Alright.”

Reyes kneels in front of him and Jesse immediately jerks his head up to stare at the ceiling and tries to think really unsexy thoughts. But that image of Reyes kneeling like that is imprinted on his retinas. It’ll stay in his head for years to come. He feels a finger prod his thigh, jerking Jesse out of his fantasy. He looks down.

“You really did a number on these,” Reyes says, tugging at the edge of a hole.

“Well, there was all kinds of bushes and stuff in that garden,” Jesse says.

“Mental note for next time I have to make you a costume: consider kevlar,” Reyes says. “Here, kick off your shoes.”

Reyes carefully helps Jesse kick off his shoes before he pulls the ruined pants off completely

He reaches for Jesse’s waistband and tugs the pants down in one clean movement. Jesse wobbles on the spot.

“Hold onto my shoulder for balance.”

Jesse does so, feeling the warmth of Reyes’s skin through the fabric of his tunic. He tosses them into the pile of clothes on the floor. Jesse lets go of Reyes’s shoulder to cover his bits. He lets himself get one last good look of Reyes on his knees in front of him before Reyes stands up.

“Thanks,” Jesse says. Reyes nods. He’s still standing awfully close. He could easily kiss him right now. So he does.

Reyes doesn’t step away. He actually tilts his head into the kiss and, when Jesse parts his lips, he kisses back, deeply. It sends a spark down Jesse’s spine. He has to pull away to catch his breath.

“Oh,” Jesse says. Reyes scans Jesse’s face, a small pinch between his eyebrows.

“Sorry,” Reyes says. Jesse shakes his head.

“I mean, I started it.”

“But still.”

“Don’t apologize unless you mean it,” Jesse says.

“Jesse -” Reyes says and Jesse feels his heart skip a beat. The way Reyes says Jesse’s name feels strangely intimate. Jesse wants to hear it again and again. More importantly: he wants to keep kissing Reyes.

“I want to keep doing that,” Jesse says. “If that’s alright.”

The corner of Reyes’s mouth twitches up. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Never hurts to ask,” Jesse says. Reyes leans forward this time, taking Jesse’s cheek in his hand and kissing him deeply. Jesse’s knees practically knock together. He can hardly believe this is happening. He fists his good hand in Reyes’s shirt to remind him it’s real, to keep Reyes from moving away. Jesse didn’t need to worry, though, as Reyes’s other hand presses against the bare skin at the small of his back.

Reyes pulls away first. His lips are spit-shiny and just a little swollen. He runs a finger along the edge of the sling that’s holding Jesse’s arm in place.

“I should let you rest,” Reyes says. Jesse catches his hand.

“Stay,” he says. Reyes raises his eyes to look at Jesse. “Stay,” Jesse says again. Reyes looks conflicted but Jesse can tell when he’s bending - he’s got the same look as he does when Jesse proposes a change to a mission that is maybe riskier but will get the job done faster.

“If you’re sure.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.”

Reyes leans in and kisses Jesse again. “I’ll stay.”

Jesse grins and kisses him back deeply, his good arm wrapped around Reyes’s shoulders. He pushes Reyes backwards, towards the unmade bed. Reyes trips over his feet but lets Jesse push him until the back of his legs hit the bed.

“Jesse,” Reyes says and this time Jesse doesn’t repress the shiver that runs down his spine.

“Yeah?”

Reyes shakes his head. “Nothing, I - I just like saying it,” he says, color rising to his cheeks. Jesse is delighted.

“I like hearing it,” Jesse says. He kisses him again, a little hungrier. “Can I call you Gabe?”

“If you want.”

“I do. Gabe.”

Gabe slips around Jesse and pushes him down to the bed. Jesse lets him. He looks up at Gabe with his feet planted on the floor. As he watches, Gabe lifts his arms and tugs his tunic over his head. Jesse watches, not wanting to miss a second of this moment that he’s been wanting for… too many years.

Jesse reaches up to drag Gabe down so he can kiss him again, so he can run his hands over Gabe’s chest. Gabe takes Jesse’s face with both hands and kisses him deeply. Jesse melts into it, hungry for more. He can feel scars under his fingers. He wants to map them all out, memorize them. He wants more, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

Gabe seems to read his mind - not for the first time, certainly, but it’s different now. He kneels in front of Jesse again, and this time he puts his hands on Jesse’s knees as he looks up at Jesse. He licks his lips. Jesse feels his breath catch.

“Can I…?” Gabe starts to ask.

“You can do whatever you want, boss. Gabe.”

Gently but firmly, Gabe pushes Jesse’s knees apart and shuffles forward. Jesse is, embarrassingly, hard already. Gabe wraps his hand around the base of his cock and Jesse can’t stop the sound that falls from his mouth. When Gabe leans forward and takes the tip of him in his mouth, Jesse makes an even louder noise, practically a whimper. He grabs at Gabe’s shoulder with his good hand. Gabe raises his eyes to look at Jesse, who nods.

“Don’t you dare stop now,” Jesse manages to say. Gabe hums around him and then slides down the length of Jesse’s cock, taking him as far into his mouth as he can and then stroking the rest of him with his hand. “Oh, _fuck_.”

Gabe makes a pleased noise around Jesse’s cock. His mouth is hot and wet and Jesse can’t get enough of it. He barely blinks so he doesn’t miss a moment. Gabe settles into a rhythm, his hand moving down to cup Jesse’s balls, rolling them in his palm as he sucks Jesse down. Jesse is already panting when Gabe presses a finger against the patch of skin just behind his balls, but that makes him curl his toes as one hand flies into Gabe’s hair.

“Fuck,” Jesse breathes. “You’re so good at that.”

A rumbling noise reverberates around Jesse’s cock - he realizes that it’s a laugh. Jesse laughs too, a little breathless. He runs his fingers through Gabe’s hair. Gabe leans into the touch, managing to not break his rhythm, even as his eyes flutter shut.

Jesse isn’t going to last. He’s been so busy that he hasn’t had a chance to blow off some steam in a while - and Gabe is shockingly good at this. Not to mention it’s _Gabriel Reyes_ on his knees in front of Jesse. If Jesse was a gambling man, he would’ve bet that he’d be the one on his knees first.

Not that he’s complaining.

“Gabe,” Jesse says, his voice breaking a little. He tugs on Gabe’s hair. “Gabe - I’m close - you’re too fucking good - _please_ -”

Gabe raises his eyes to look at Jesse. It sends what feels like an electrical current through his body. Jesse shudders and comes hard, fingers tightening in Gabe’s hair. His voice breaks, his mouth drops open, and a ragged gasp escapes from his throat. Gabe barely blinks as he swallows around Jesse. He pulls off with a wet pop, licking his lips. Jesse sags, letting go of Gabe’s hair as he does.

“Well, shit,” Jesse manages to say. Gabe looks entirely too pleased with himself. Jesse leans forward to kiss him. Gabe obliges, kissing him back deeply. Jesse makes a little noise against his lips.

“Was that okay?” Gabe asks as he pulls away. Jesse punches him lightly in the shoulder.

“You know it was, smart ass,” Jesse says. Gabe laughs.

“I wanted to hear you say it,” Gabe says.

“It was more than okay and you know it.”

Gabe laughs again and kisses Jesse. When he pulls away, Jesse notices the scars on Gabe’s face are smoothed out when he smiles - he looks happier, lighter.

“Come up here,” Jesse says, scooting back on the bed, which is little more than a full. Gabe sits on the edge of the bed and looks at Jesse, who pulls at him to come closer. Gabe goes easily, even though the bed is really much too small for the both of them. Jesse is practically already in Gabe’s lap so he shifts around and settles himself in with his legs on either side of Gabe’s hips. He kisses him again, enjoying the tickle of his facial hair against his upper lip. Gabe kisses him back, just as enthusiastically. They make out like teenagers, hands and lips and tongues everywhere at once.

“I can return the favor, if you want,” Jesse says eventually, a little breathless. Gabe touches the strap of the sling keeping Jesse’s arm in place.

“You’re injured,” Gabe says.

“That didn’t stop you before,” Jesse says. Color rises to Gabe’s cheeks.

“Well you didn’t have to do much,” Gabe says. Jesse laughs. He looks at Gabe for a long moment, weighing his options.

“You could fuck me,” Jesse says before he can think better of it. He feels Gabe react to the suggestion, even though his face gives nothing away; under Jesse, Gabe’s dick gives a distinctly interested twitch.

“Jesse…” Gabe says, but there’s no resolve behind it. Jesse kisses him again, a little deeper, a little dirtier. He can feel Gabe give in.

“Fuck me, Gabe, c’mon,” Jesse murmurs against his mouth. Gabe lets his breath out.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Gabe says.

“Unless you’re gonna stab me, I think I’ll be alright,” Jesse says. Gabe reaches up and pushes some hair off of Jesse’s face.

“If you’re sure.”

“Gabe, I’ve wanted you to fuck me for about as long as I’ve known you,” Jesse says with a laugh. “If this is my only chance, I’m gonna take it and run.”

Gabe’s hand lingers on Jesse’s cheek. “I was sort of hoping this… wouldn’t be your only chance.”

Jesse grins. “I like the sound of that.”

Gabe wraps his arms around Jesse and rolls them so Jesse’s back hits the bed, with Gabe hovering over him. It only pulls a little - Gabe is, again, surprisingly gentle. He leans down to kiss Jesse again.

“Really?” Gabe asks, kissing along Jesse’s jaw. Jesse tilts his head into his kisses. He wraps his good arm around Gabe’s shoulders.

“Really.”

“Where do you keep your lube?”

Jesse starts reaching for the nightstand but Gabe stops him with a hand on his sternum. “You’re going to tear your stitches.” Gabe takes the opportunity to get up and to peel off his pants. Unlike Jesse, he actually wore underwear under the tight pants, but he kicks those off as well. Jesse has definitely seen Gabe naked before, but this is _so_ much different. Usually, Jesse tries his best to keep his eyes above the belt, though he’s definitely snuck a peek here and there. He knows what Reyes is working with. But now, he lets his gaze settle on Gabe’s cock, half hard against his thigh. Jesse’s mouth practically waters.

Gabe retrieves the lube from the nightstand and gets back on the bed, settling between Jesse’s knees. Jesse spreads his legs a little wider.

“I ain’t no pillow princess, boss,” Jesse says. “I plan on participating fully.” Gabe snorts.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” Gabe says. He squeezes some lube into his hand and then starts stroking himself. Jesse sits up with a little difficulty.

“Let me,” he says, pushing Gabe’s hand out of the way so he can wrap his own hand around Gabe’s girth. Gabe’s dick gives a very interested twitch, hardening rapidly in his palm. Gabe looks down, watching Jesse stroke him. “God, Gabe.”

Gabe lets out a shaky breath, his cock fully hard now. Jesse is reluctant to let it go, but he reminds himself that Gabe said he wanted to do this again. They don’t have to do everything right at this moment, even though Jesse wants it all _right now_.

Jesse finally lets go and lies back against his pillows. Gabe squeezes more lube into his hand and leans forward, bracing himself with one hand on the bed while the other trails down over Jesse’s cock, over his balls, and back to his hole. He rubs his lubed fingers back and forth over Jesse’s hole, dipping the tip of the finger into him almost teasingly. Jesse shifts restlessly, trying to follow his fingers.

“I ain’t no blushing virgin, Gabe,” Jesse says finally. Gabe blinks then lets out a small laugh.

“I’m enjoying the moment, Jesse,” he says.

“The anticipation is _killing_ me.”

Gabe pulls his hand away, and it’s somehow worse than the teasing. Jesse reaches up to pull him closer.

“C’mon,” Jesse says. He leans up to kiss him, even though it pulls at the wound in his side. Gabe pushes him back down to the bed, putting a little strength behind it, which sends a pleasant shiver down Jesse’s spine. He keeps his hand on Jesse’s chest as he lines up his dick with his other hand, his gaze focused on the space between them. Jesse’s breath catches. Slowly, Gabe pushes inside of Jesse, agonizingly slowly, so that Jesse can feel every bit of the stretch-burn-pull of his dick splitting him open. Jesse forgets to breathe for a moment. He clutches at the arm that’s holding him down. “F-fuck -”

Gabe looks up at Jesse’s face. “Okay?”

“You’re so - you’re so - you feel so good,” Jesse manages to say. Gabe slides home and Jesse gasps. He clenches around Gabe, feeling every inch of him, feeling incredibly full, feeling like he’s the luckiest man in the world. He’s overly sensitive, but it just makes the sensation even sweeter. He digs his fingers into Gabe’s arm. “Fuck me.”

Gabe obliges, moving his hand off Jesse’s chest and letting himself rest on his elbows, his face close to Jesse’s as he starts moving his hips, slowly at first, then picking up speed as Jesse opens up for him. Jesse hooks a leg around Gabe’s waist and Gabe moves one hand to hold it there. He keeps his gaze locked with Jesse’s, his brow slightly furrowed, his mouth open. Jesse can’t look away.

“Yeah - fuck. ‘Sgood. Gabe - fuck, Gabe - don’t stop,” Jesse pants. Gabe rolls his hips then pulls away and snaps forward again, starting up this devilish rhythm that has Jesse right on the edge. His spent cock gives an interested twitch against his thigh. “Please, Gabe, _please_ -”

Gabe growls somewhere deep in his chest.

“‘M here,” Gabe says, and his voice sounds like nothing Jesse’s ever heard from him before - soft and low and a little rough around the edges. It feels intimate, like a secret Jesse wasn’t supposed to hear. “Fuck, Jesse.”

Jesse practically whimpers. He lifts his hips to meet Gabe’s thrusts, his good hand clutching at him, drawing him closer, wanting anything and everything that Gabe can give him. Gabe leans down to kiss Jesse, mouth open and sloppy. They’re both breathing hard. Jesse feels Gabe’s hips stutter.

“Jesse - Jesse -” he breathes. “God, Jesse. You feel so good. You’re so - so -”

This time, Jesse actually whimpers. A moment later, Gabe thrusts in all the way and comes. Jesse moves his hand to the small of Gabe’s back, pressing in, holding him close. Gabe drops his forehead to Jesse’s and closes his eyes. He’s still breathing hard. Jesse tips his head up to kiss him, softly this time, almost sweetly.

“That was… intense,” Jesse says. Gabe kisses him again before he rolls off of Jesse. He doesn’t go far, draping an arm across Jesse as if to keep him close.

“But good?”

“Really fucking good,” Jesse says. He rolls onto his side to face Gabe. “Wish we had done this sooner.”

“We really should talk about all this,” Gabe says. Jesse wiggles closer, tucking himself into Gabe’s side. Gabe nuzzles in, adjusting his arms to keep Jesse close, to bury his nose into Jesse’s hair.

“We should. But tomorrow?” Jesse says. “I’m supposed to be resting, you know.”

Gabe blinks and rolls his eyes. “Oh, now you need to rest?”

“We’ll talk about -” Jesse gestures between them “- you and me, whatever you want, tomorrow. I promise. I’m a man of my word.”

“Alright. Tomorrow then,” Gabe agrees. “Only because I know you wouldn’t promise otherwise.”

“You can trust me,” Jesse says.

“I do,” Gabe replies. He leans in to kiss Jesse, who smiles against his mouth.

♦ ♦ ♦

The next morning, Jesse wakes up sore and alone. He’s confused for a moment, the night before coming back to him in bits and pieces. _Gabe_. Jesse finds himself smiling. He rolls to the side to bury his face into his pillow.

Gabe. Where did he go? Jesse didn’t feel him get up, didn’t hear him leave. He peeks over the edge of the bed - his clothes are gone. A niggling worried feeling bubbles up in the back of Jesse’s mind. Could Gabe have had a change of heart?

Jesse’s third alarm is blaring - Jesse can never get up with the first one, and usually sleeps until the last possible moment. He nearly forgot about the debrief. He sits up in bed and winces. Most of the blankets slide to the floor. He gets up stiffly, the knife wound in his side pulling a little. It looks like it opened up again sometime in the night. It’s deeper than it looks, and the stitches pulled a bit. Jesse glances at the clock. He has enough time before the debrief for a very quick shower or to go grab coffee. He opts for the latter.

Jesse walks into the debriefing room with a steaming cup of coffee (black, too much sugar) to find Gabe already at the head of the table with his own cup of coffee, apparently going through reports on his tablet.

“Hey,” Jesse says softly, uncertainly. Gabe looks up. A smile spreads over his face and the worry Jesse was feeling fades away almost instantly.

“Hey,” Gabe says, matching Jesse’s low voice. “Sorry I left without… I had to prep for the debrief.”

“You scared me for a second there,” Jesse says, trying to make it sound lighter than he felt at the time.

“Sorry,” Gabe says again and it sounds sincere. Jesse feels something warm and content spread through his chest.

“It’s alright,” Jesse says. “We still on for that talk?”

“After the debrief?”

“Works for me.”

Gabe smiles at Jesse and Jesse returns the smile. He leans in for a swift, sweet kiss. It takes Gabe by surprise, but he looks pleased. A moment later, the door to the conference room slides open, and other members of the strike team start to file in. Jesse gives Gabe a wink and goes to take his seat. Gabe clears his throat and turns his attention back to his tablet. Jesse can see a hint of color at the top of Gabe’s cheeks. He’s looking forward to that talk. He hopes he can sneak in another kiss or two.


End file.
